Death's Fear
by Gunning For the Sun
Summary: "Well, Jack, this is Severus… he's the Reaper of Souls… or, rather, Death." After disappearing, Severus expects to find himself a place in Pitch's arm only to get the cold shoulder. Can he fix this? And what else is brewing in the background? Only something sinister of course. Pitch/Severus.
1. Chapter 1

I haven't read any of the books. I saw the movie once. I will try to capture the characters as the movie did but… I'm likely to fail. I thought of this because there is only one RotG story with Severus (what's up with that people!?) and I've decided that Pitch and Snape are meant to be together. This is just for fun. No money made. Own nothing.

Warning: some violence, some gayness.

Main Couple: Pitch/Severus

Side Couple (established): Bunny/Santa

Maybe couples: surprises!

(**)

"They're coming, you miserable old bastard so just wait!"

"Had I…" what was said became lost in the wind. "I would not tolerate your foolishness. I will only tell you this once more, you insolent little brat: there is no other way, no matter how hard you wish it to be. Accept that I do not wait for anyone… especially you."

There were a lot of things that could catch Jack Frost's attention but only a few things that could keep it. One of them did not include a light bantering argument between North and Bunnymund but one did include two people arguing with such venom in their relatively quiet voices. Jack raised his head and began to walk in the direction, sneaking away from the older Guardians until he found himself silently running through the large trees and ducking behind a bush even though he highly doubted anyone would be able to see him.

In the clearing were two males, one a rather short young man that looked to be around Jack's (appearance) age although he was scrawny and much tanner than he. He wore a burgundy cloak with a sewn onto it and a gold clasp keeping it on his narrow shoulders. He had wild dark brown hair and, when he glanced around frantically, Jack nearly gasped at the pure brilliance of his green eyes. They practically glowed in the almost darkness and were absolutely beautiful except that they glimmered with tears and something that suggested that he wanted to scream and tear out his hair.

"I'm going to guide them—don't do anything!" the boy shouted and dashed off. As he disappeared, it was then that Jack turned his attention to the other being. This one was taller but Jack couldn't make out anything about the man except that he was probably a man. He squinted and leaned just a bit forward to try to catch a glimpse of the completely covered man. There was something oddly familiar about the black cloaked figure with his bowed head. The man turned to look in the direction that the younger (Jack assumed) man had disappeared before shaking his head.

"Foolish boy," he whispered in a deep, purring voice then he fell to his knees. With a start, Jack saw that there was another person, this one on the ground and almost deadly silent. It was a little girl he realized with a start, almost completely covered with the falling snow. She was curled into a tight shivering ball, her black hair covering most of her brown face but Jack could make out one brown eye that gazed out dully.

There was something wrong, Jack was sure of it however it wasn't connecting properly at the present moment so he watched the cloaked man. To his surprise, the man's form shifted and blurred before clearing once more to reveal a woman. She (he) kneeled down next to the little girl, the equally black hair shifting on the fake woman's head until it brushed the little girl's round face.

"Lilo," the transformed man hummed in a sweet, honey voice. The little girl shifted weakly, picking up her head just a centimeter at the sound of the woman's voice. The soaked black strands of her hair that shielded some of her face did nothing to hide the red tinted snow beneath her. Jack felt his throat tighten, was the girl injured? Was she a spirit and the woman (man) her mother (father)?

"Mom… is tha you?" she slurred, her little hand reaching out blindly but she didn't move her body any more as though she were frightened that her mother really wasn't there. Jack felt the sudden urge to shout out to the girl, to tell her that it wasn't her mother but a man. Before he could, the man let out a bell-like laugh in the woman's voice and nodded, catching the bare hand in his and pressing his painted lips into the stiff little fingers that were slowly turning blue.

"Yes, love, it's me," the man continued in Lilo's mother's voice, bending over further until their hair merged together as though they did this every day. Lilo giggled feebly and slowly uncurled herself, bringing attention to the damaged half of her face. Jack flinched as he watched the blood still pouring from the side of her face dye the snow below her. The woman (man) didn't seem phased by it as he ran a delicate hand over the damage, causing the girl to sigh with relief. Jack felt sick to his stomach, he had never seen anything like that—had never seen such wounds on someone so small even though children slipped and fell on his ice near constantly.

"Mom, it hurts and so, so, so cold," Lilo whimpered, dragging herself closer into the warmth that her 'mommy' provided. Something was wrong, something was happening and still the answer eluded the playful Winter Spirit.

"Oh baby, it's almost over. It's almost over and you'll be so happy," the man cooed, gathering the small girl into the green clothed arms.

"Sing to me mom?" the girl asked weakly. The man let out a choked sob and nodded down at the wounded girl. Then he began to sing in a loving voice, bringing a tired smile to the girl.

"Lilo-Bye, oh Lilo Bye

My lovely Lilo moon

Tip-Toe by where my baby lies

In your tiny silver spoon

Will you guard, will you keep…"

Jack felt tears pooling in his eyes despite the obvious still evading his mind or perhaps he did innately realize what was happening but he just couldn't bring himself to accept it. He jumped as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He whipped his head around and saw that it was Bunnymund touching him while North stood on his other side, both gazing out at the scene Jack had stumbled upon.

"That's a shame," the Phooka sighed sadly as he shook his head.

"Let's go Jack," North rumbled in a subdued voice, his sparkling blue eyes dulled out. As though he were struck by lightning, Jack's brain forced itself to accept what was happening and had been happening right in front of him. The little girl, Lilo, was dying in the snow—no, she wasn't dying, the man was actively killing her! The young winter spirit let out a dismayed shout and ripped away from Bunnymund's large paw and ducked under North's reaching arm. He dashed quickly over to the murderer, anger and fear driving him to go as fast as he could.

"Don't kill her!" he cried out as his body slammed so hard into the other that it knocked him right out the realistic illusion and the girl landed harshly on the ground with a whimper that went unheard by Jack. The killer let out a grunt, hood flying back to reveal his features for blue eyes to take note of only for the boy to do a double take to make sure that he was seeing the man's face correctly.

"Pitch?" he gasped dumbly then he blinked and the man's face became clearer. No, no, he wasn't Pitch Black. This man's hair was much longer and fanned out onto the snow like raven wings. His eyes, like Pitch's eyes glowed but they were onyx without a sliver of white to be seen. His skin, as though it wanted nothing more than to defy the rest of him, was bone white. It was nothing like the grey tint that defined Pitch. It was clear that the man was a spirit but he was not one that Jack readily recognized by his appearance.

"Get off me you imbecile!" the man shouted, bringing his elbow up in a vicious blow to Jack's jaw that knocked him to the side with a grunt of pain. The man landed another kick, this one seemingly by accident as the man's foot had connected with his chest as he scrambled towards the little girl. She was shivering once more and dull eyed, sprawled across the snow seeing as she had been ripped forcefully out of her 'mother's' arms. In a second, the man was resuming the image of her mother with the thick black hair falling in Lilo's face and a beautiful tune carrying over the snow drenched clearing. Jack placed a hand to his aching jaw and shakily climbed back to his feet, the blow had taken more out of him than he thought it would but he was determined. He couldn't just let this monster kill a little girl. He had to stop this monster.

Before he could stumble towards the duo and interrupt the man again, he was confronted by his fellow Guardians, three out of the four standing to block his path. Their faces pulled into collective frowns although Tooth was glancing over her shoulders, her eyes wet with tears that she tried to keep from falling.

"What are you doing!? He's going to kill her!" Jack shouted and tried to go around the older spirits but it was not meant to be. North shook his head and placed a large hand over the white haired lad's mouth, quieting his shoulder and protestations while his free arm wrapped around his torso to pin his flailing his arms. Jack was effectively neutralized and left to watch helplessly as the man slowly sung Lilo to her death. Just as the last of the lyrics were being said, the boy with the vibrant eyes was back but with the company of humans, a woman who was right behind him and several others only a few yards away.

"Nani, please slow down before you fall. You don't know that she's this way," a man shouted, his short hair ruffling in the wind as he attempted to catch up with the woman racing through the snow. She slipped and slid on the ice, obviously unused to it but the determination on her face spoke of fearlessness of energy.

"David, she is. I can feel her, Lilo is this way—just trust me!" the woman responded, her eyes searching through the stark whiteness in obvious search for the little girl. The green eyed spirit that the human was not aware of smiled triumphantly, hands keeping her from falling or obviously filling her with extra strength even as the others slowed in their run. He led her, taking her closer and closer to the little girl who needed her and him and oh they were going to make it! They were, they were.

He turned around as he lost sense of the little girl he knew to be behind him only to let out a gasp, color rushing from his face and tears pooling in his eyes. Jack followed his line of sight and let out a dry sob, sagging in the hold of his fellow Guardian as he too saw what the boy saw. The little girl, Lilo, was no longer held by her mother. She was laid out, partially buried in the falling snow with her head turned to the side so her horrible wounds wouldn't show. She was no more, she was dead. And she was being held by the man who had pretended to be her mother, held on his hip as she cuddled close to a green doll with a head much too large for its body. She watched the scene with large brown eyes that held obvious concern.

"Oh no. Please Lilo no! LILO!" the woman, Nani, shouted as she rushed to the dead girl. Tears poured down her brown face. Without the help of the spirit, she fell into the snow and was forced to crawl, throwing up more of the frozen water until she was finally able to gather the tiny, limp body to his chest. The people who had followed her stopped short and took on stiff, grim faces as they observed the woman screaming to the heavens for the loss of the little girl.

"Nani… she's so sad. I didn't want her to be sad. Can't I go back to my sister?" Lilo whispered to the cloaked man even as she continued to stare at her weeping sister. The hooded head gave a solemn shake and a sigh that was almost like the howling wind around them. He placed her on the ground, kneeling as he did so to push the girl's hair out of her face and behind one round ear to reveal her unsullied face.

"It is too late for you to go back. She can no longer see you but for a moment more… she will be able to hear you. Say your parting words so you may join your mother and father," the cloaked spirit ordered. The little girl nodded, sadness still around her face as she slowly turned around and trotted over to her father. Jack watched limply as Lilo gave her sister a soft peck on the cheek and pressed her lips close to her sister's ear but her words carried on the wind.

"I didn't mean it Nani. I never hate you and I love you more than anything. You were the best sister ever," she assured the grieving woman before she stepped away and walked slowly back to the cloaked man. He rested a long fingered hand on her head and waved the other, creating a portal from nothing. Inside the portal was pure white but that was all, nothing could be heard but the general sense of warmth came from it.

"Lilo!" a voice, the real mother, called out from the portal. Lilo gave her sister one last glance before jumping inside. Almost immediately, it slammed shut behind her. Jack watched this happen limply, the boy much like him, staring at the red snow where the girl had laid and not moving as the sister and her friends left, carrying the corpse with them. It was silent in the clearing for a long time, North having released Jack and Bunnymund having pried himself from Tooth who had succumbed to tears. Finally the cloaked man seemed to have gotten tired of the silence. He ripped off his hood and whirled on the four Guardians.

"Nicolas, I have come to realize that you are not a bumbling oaf. However, the next time you take your dog out for a walk, make sure that he's on his leash!" the man hissed nastily, glaring harshly at the shell shocked Jack. It was obvious that he had never seen anyone die beyond his own death. That little girl… she was so small. She could have been his little sister, so scared on the cracking ice with only her older brother to soothe her but… that little girl didn't have her older brother to save her. She died in the middle of a snowy field, alone, in pain and scared.

"Now, Severus, that is not fair," North sighed softly as he pulled his fingers through his white beard. It was apparent that he wanted to side with Jack however there was also the problem that Jack had been completely wrong in attacking the cloaked spirit. He could have greatly ruined things for that little girl.

"You… you let him kill her. That boy went for help… and you let him kill her," Jack announced aloud. Had Jack been able to look away from the red tinted snow that was rapidly disappearing from more falling snowflakes, he would have seen the onyx orbs narrow at him and a look of disgust pass over the bone white face.

"Surely you jest! What brand of dunderhead do you have to be to not know who I am boy? Someone tell me that Mr. Jack Frost is not as stupid as I believe him to be!" the spirit demanded with his face drawn in a look of utter disbelief and his long arms folded over his cloaked chest.

"No, he uh, he wouldn't know who you are. Manny created him so there'd be no reason for… for…" Tooth sniffled as she was unable to finish her statement. Tears still fell down her brightly colored cheeks but she managed to wipe away the moisture and force a small smile upon her lips. She figured that no one wanted to introduce the two and it would be hard to get the Winter spirit's attention. Tooth flew towards Jack and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. Slowly, bright blue eyes raised to meet her own browns that flitted across his face.

"Jack… are you okay?" she asked softly, watching as he nodded the affirmative even though he didn't look the least bit fine. "Well, Jack, this is Severus… he's the Reaper of Souls… or, rather, Death."

"Death…? As in Death? I didn't know it… uh he was… real," Jack stared at the man, brows drawn up to his forehead and curiosity taking over his face as he stared at the figure. Like everyone he had seen various pictures of Death and human depictions of the man. Normally they were cloaked skeletons with scythes… compared to the way that humans tended to draw Tooth, North, Bunny, or even him, those pictures were pretty close in resemblance. Death, after all, was very thin, wore a black cloak that shielded all of his body except his hands and his face with the hood drawn back as it was and the utter darkness of his eyes could be seen as empty sockets.

"You didn't think I was real, boy? I am more real than you are and you will do well to remember it," the man sneered at him, his lip curling back and morphing his face into something twisted. He turned on his heel and began to walk away but he paused for a single second, turning his head to cast a sidelong glare at him, "Also, the next time you feel like sticking your nose where it doesn't belong… don't."

Then he was gone with nary a sound, leaving Jack with the feeling that someone had punched him in the gut.

"Jack, don't take personal," North stated kindly and tried to take his mind away the hateful words, "Severus has been around long time and has been feared even longer. Grows shell that makes him seem very, very nasty but he's good on inside, yes?"

"Yeah… no. Don't lie to the guy. Severus is an asshole but everyone just deals with it because he'll never take that hefty stick out of his arse," the wild haired boy said bitterly, bringing attention to his sulking form.

"Crickey, I forgot you were there, kid!" Aster jumped, green eyes widening at the other spirit. The more-human green eyed invisible shrugged with a sly smile, coming closer to the small group. His eyes were sparkling as he looked at each Guardian, taking them in as if for the first time.

"So are you Death's partner or something?" Jack guessed, looking over the other spirit. He had never seen him then again, he hadn't seen Death before today either. Jack idly wondered how many other spirits he had never seen. The twinkle disappeared from his eyes and the boy shook his head with a disgusted snort.

"No, I'm the complete opposite of that bitter git. I give people second chances at life. My name is Harry—Harry Potter before I died but now it's just Harry," the boy held out his hand to the still kneeling winter spirit. Jack smiled brightly and took the offered hand, allowing it to pull him to his feet. Now that he had a look at Severus, he could see that this boy was his opposite with their appearance. This boy was tanned, with bright lively eyes and a quick smile. Harry gave second chances for life rather than ripping it away.

"Now Harry you know Severus's job is very hard and makes lots of stress," North scolded despite the fact that he was gathering him into a joyful hug. Harry let out a small chuckle and allowed the bone crushing hug with little more than an exaggerated groan.

"Oi, mate, its cold out here. Let's get somewhere where my tail won't freeze off," Bunnymund suddenly suggested, bringing his paws to wrap around his imprinted arms in an attempt to bring some warmth. Jack nodded, not cold—he was never cold—but more because he wanted to be as far away from this scene as he could get.

(**)

Pitch entered his home with a tired look upon his face, glowing golden eyes not even glancing around at the familiar settings. He had a calling towards his home and he couldn't put off the feeling any longer. He strode around the darkened palace, ignoring his mares although he was still slightly pissed that they had turned on him as they had done. If it hadn't been for his own willpower to not be consumed by more darkness… well, let's just say the fear he had planned for those children would have been nothing than what his mares would have done to him, the embodiment of fear.

"Hello," a velvet voice drawled out from the darkness. Pitch knew that he should have been surprised that the man was in his home but there was something in the back of his mind that could feel the other, shorter male. It was probably the same thing that had summoned him from his duties like a soul deep connection—no! The boogeyman swallowed hard but discreetly and steeled his spine. He would not give in, he had sworn to himself those years ago that he would never give in ever again and he wouldn't.

No, he wouldn't.

"It seems that you have once again invited yourself into my home, Death," Pitch stated, raising a single brow as he gazed down at the onyx eyed entity. A brief look of confusion and even hurt appeared on Death's face before it disappeared just as quickly. Pitch sneered at the pale man, his resolve hardening. Of course he would be confused, Pitch never called him 'Death' even when he was very angry with him just as the man hardly called him any of those monikers that mortals had given him.

"It seems that in my absence, you lost what little mind you once possessed, Boogeyman," Severus countered mockingly in that damning way that normally provoked both anger and lust. However, this time it was only anger that raced through Pitch's body and it took every ounce of willpower to not simply command his Mares to attack. Sev (no, that bastard's name was Death!) did not have the right to speak of his defeat or his mission! He didn't have the right to say a word to him after leaving him with his mocking fears that all came true.

"You left me for eighty years and you think by showing your face that you will be in my good graces once more or that my sheets will peel back for you to slither your way inside?" Pitch spat, spittle nearly landing on the smaller. This did not seem to affect the other except for the spirit raising a brow and tilting his head curiously as though he did not understand why Pitch spoke to him as he did. Death reached out, long, pale fingers stretched wide as though he were desperate for Pitch to grab onto the slim digits that were oh-so close. The mares behind Pitch neighed out a warning, bucking upwards in a threatening show as Pitch's emotions commanded them. Severus sneered at the beasts and gave an eye roll that stated just how intimidated he was although he did stop reaching for the other.

"These theatrics are not necessary for you know that your mares can do me little harm, Kozmotis," the man cast another sneer at the bucking mares. Pitch curled his own lips but did not contradict the man's words. S—Death had been around for a long, long time. Pitch was sure that the man was even older than he and the Man in the Moon and with that time he spent alive, he grew in power. There wasn't much that could put a scratch on him much less kill him outright because Death would always be believed in. Severus would never have the fear that someday, no one would believe in him, that he'd be forgotten and tossed to the side like some ratty old sock.

"Do not use that name. You lost that right eighty years ago. Now get out," Pitch ordered tightly before the man could begin to use his voice in a way that was only beneficial for Sev—Death. The dark spirit stared at him with those demonic onyx eyes for a long time, not moving to leave or to say anything. Pitch did not allow the hurt and murderous rage to show on his face but how he wanted to punch the invisible in front of him, to knock him to the ground and spit on his very soul as he had done to Pitch.

"You do not want me…?" Death finally asked, blinking very slowly. The Nightmare King scoffed loudly and sneered down at the man who was darker than he. He would not allow the other to play the victim when it was he that was wronged. In fact, he refused to play any of these games any longer.

"It was you that did not want me now leave my sight!" Pitch growled out between sharp teeth. Severus smirked and stepped forward, ignoring the fact that the younger mythical creature stepped away from him just as fast.

"Are you quite sure that you wish for me to leave?" he purred out, reaching forward with a long fingered, white hand. The gray skinned male flinched away and immediately beckoned his mares forward to attack Death in a reflex of feeling threatened. Severus's onyx eyes widened almost comically in his shock but Pitch didn't take time to insult or laugh. Instead he vanished in a show of black sand, going to the first and only place he knew that Severus would not follow him.

(**)

The Guardians and Harry blinked at the sudden appearance of the shadow-like being that soon turned into a solid person. North spat his eggnog all over one of his elves in his shock, Tooth let out a gasp, and Bunnymund almost fell out of his chair. Harry did a double take then noted the gray skin and the spiked hair, recognizing that it was not Severus but someone else.

"Who are you?" Harry asked curiously, snatching up another cookie from the plate, nibbling on it even as the other Guardians got into defensive postures. The gray skinned man wasn't paying any attention. Instead he was focusing on pacing violently and hissing in a language that was so old that it no longer existed although Tooth seemed to recognize it for she blushed bright red and ducked her head at the sailor talk falling from the usually calm and collected myth.

"That insufferable, arrogant bastard!" the creature finally ended his hisses in English. He took several breaths to calm himself and finally seemed to notice the Guardians that seemed five seconds away from launching themselves at him. A snort and a disgusted head shake reminded Harry firmly and disturbingly of Severus.

"Oh please, if I wanted to attack you, you would all be on the ground," the man sniffed. The Guardians glanced amongst each other and three shifted although their guards were not quite lowered as the robed man started his pacing once more but at a sedated pace.

"?" the Guardian of Dreams asked silently, the most suspicious of the newcomer to the point that he hadn't even put away his weapons or shifted from his fighting stance. It was obvious that this man was on Sandman's hate list which made Harry want to know who this man was even more so than before. He hadn't even known that anyone could bring hatred out of the wise Sandman.

"What are you doing here, Pitch?" Bunnymund demanded less silently, green eyes narrowed and fingers tight around his boomerang, itching for the other to make a wrong move.

"Pitch…?" Harry hummed to himself as he tried to figure out as to why that name was so familiar. He had heard it from someone, he was sure of it. He furrowed his brows in agitation as he tried to figure out who the man was. Pitch still hadn't snapped out of his angry pacing and was once more muttering to himself.

"!?" Sandman stomped his foots angrily as he repeated his question, still silent. Harry gazed at the silent little man and finally snapped his fingers. It was so obvious!

"You're the Boogeyman, Pitch Black!" Harry pointed at said Boogeyman. Yes, yes, this man was the polar opposite of Sandy which was really obvious just appearance wise. The grey skinned man glanced at him, his eyes saying that he was quite the idiot, much like the look that Severus gave him on a nearly daily basis.

"I would have hoped that you associated yourself with higher company, North. This one is obviously an idiot," Pitch sneered, bringing his facial expression to life with his cutting words.

"Are you sure you're not just Severus with different clothes?" Harry pouted, folding his arms. Wasn't the Bringer of Death just saying the same thing to Jack Frost? The Nightmare King suddenly slammed his fist into the table, shocking several elves into running around until they all ran head first into each other.

"Don't mention that bastard in my presence!" he roared before turning in a magnificent whirl that sent his robes flying upwards to show his black pants and heavy black boots then he was stomping out of the sitting room which showed that he was truly angry for the spirit normally never set foot on the ground, instead choosing to float at least an inch off if not more. The room fell into silence although they could hear the uprising and panicking elves jingling outside as they probably ran away from the boogeyman.

"Am I the only one that's confused?" Jack finally broke out, running hand through his white locks.

(**)

To Be Continued

It'll get better as I go along…?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

If you catch the soul eater reference, good on you! I don't own anything. Please don't sue me.

(**)

Severus easily pushed back the Night Mares that Pitch had sent to attack him, killing them with little more than a sweep of his hand. The King of Fear was already gone, escaped to somewhere far although Severus would have to sit down and figure as to where the man could have gone where he could not, or more likely, would not go. There were very few places like that but he was not ready to make a list or even to look for the man that ran away from him. How… how could Kozmotis leave him like that?

Death slowly made his way out of the sunken lair and stood in the frozen night. Something was wrong with him. His chest felt strained, as if someone were pulling on his heart and trying to snatch it right from his chest. It hurt. It hurt horribly. He placed a thin hand on his chest, gripping at the dark fabric as he hunched over in an effort to ease the pain but ease it would not. The man bowed his head upwards, black hair and hood falling backwards as he looked up at the bright moon hanging in the sky, feeling its soothing beams rest on his face and he knew that the eyes of the Man on the Moon were on him at that moment.

"Tsar, I do not understand," he confessed to the first Guardian, not truly expecting an answer from the silent Guardian. They hadn't spoken in decades due to his nonattendance but his heart ached within his chest and he needed someone to speak with, "It hurts that Pitch no longer welcomes me within his arms although I am not sure why it hurts so much or even why he doesn't want me. Has Pitch found another to warm his bed while I was preoccupied?"

As expected, Manny offered no reply although the Moon seemed to dim just a bit in an answer that Severus could not bear decipher in case it was a positive. The older of the two let out a sigh and slowly reached up to pull the dark hood back over his head until his features disappeared into darkness. Then he waved a thin, long fingered hand, summoning a large scythe from the air and holding on it tightly as though it were his pillar of strength. Silently he stood there, eyes hidden but possibly still staring at the bright moon.

"I do not understand what has happened in my absence but I will not give up on Pitch without a battle… I simply cannot do so," he hummed sadly under his breath then disappeared, off to continue his never ending job until he could find the strength to seek out advice or to find the man he loved. Severus would never know that, across the world, in a different realm, the King of Nightmares was speaking to the same person and had the same amount of attention.

(**)

Harry looked at the other Guardians as they tried to puzzle out just what happened and, more importantly, how they should respond. He, personally, hadn't been a spirit for long. He had just started around eighty years ago although he seemed to be only around sixteen at the most. He didn't know all of the Guardians, mostly just North seeing as the man delivered presents to him and his faux godfather even though they weren't children any longer. He also left gifts for Severus when he hadn't been there and when the somber man had opened them later on, Harry had been absolutely sure that a smile had appeared on his face, almost invisible but still there.

"You are much larger than I thought you were going to be," Harry stated suddenly as he observed the grey furred pooka. It was obvious that Pitch wasn't going to cause trouble so he saw no point in being helpful in this particular situation. Besides, there wasn't much he could do against the Nightmare King.

"Don't you know your myths? I'm a Pooka, mate," Aster told the younger spirit proudly, chest puffing out. Harry truly did hate feeling stupid but he couldn't say that he knew what a pooka was; in fact he never heard or read about such beings even when he was a normal human and Severus protected his library with the possessiveness of a Demon Hound.

"I thought you were a kangaroo," Jack added in, keeping his voice quite innocent despite knowing that no one believed the prankster to be anything but mischievous. Aster opened his mouth, obviously going to return with an unheated insult, but was stopped as North put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Now is not time for silly rivalry. Pitch is…" North stopped for a brief moment to think carefully on his next words. He knew that something was going on with the boogeyman, something that was so horrible that he decided to come to the North Pole. Yes, it must be something horribly serious if he decided to come into this sharp light. He glanced over to the Sandman. He looked equally thoughtful, with his expressive brown eyes staring at the open door that his complete opposite had stormed through. Suddenly a heart appeared over his head and slowly but surely, North watched as the heart crumbled into nothingness. He glanced up at North and repeated the picture until North was nodding.

"Yes, Sandy, I believe that Pitch has been hurt, bad," North agreed with the round man. He turned to his fellow guardians, a determined look on his face. Aster felt his stomach drop to his feet and a groan erupted from his lips.

"No, no, no!" he growled, green eyes sparking. "I know that look North and I'm not helping that evil bastard! Nothing you say or do will never get me to help him. Not today, tomorrow or… or…" Bunny trailed off as the big man suddenly strode over and dropped his head slightly to whisper within his long ears. The six foot tall rabbit grew oddly silently and his eyes dulled for a brief moment before he shook his head. North smiled his old smile although Harry was sure that there was some kind of gleam in his eye.

"You like, yes?" North nodded eagerly.

"Fine, I'll help the bastard," Bunnymund grumbled as he folded his arms. After that, it was short work getting the other Guardians to agree. Even Sandy, with his obvious dislike for the black robed man was quick to jump on the bandwagon on helping their fellow spirit. Now, they just had to find him…

(**)

"Hello Old Friend," Pitch smiled bitterly up at the moon. It wasn't surprising that the other did not speak but he knew that he held the man's attention for the moment, "You are getting enjoyment from seeing me in pain, aren't you? I deserve to be hurt as I am hurting… don't you think so?"

If he spoke, Pitch knew that the other would deny his words vehemently but he also knew that, beyond a kinder spirit was one that happily danced on the grave of his enemy. While Pitch was not dead, he was in pain and that was good enough for most. Most wanted to see him in pain, wanted him weeping and crying in a lit corner so they wouldn't miss a single tear drop. But he wouldn't. Pitch refused to shed a tear because of that despicable bastard! He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing Pitch broken… he would see him angry.

"He believes that he can abandon me and then come back as though nothing happened," Pitch spat, clenching his fist. He wished to wrap them around a certain thin throat and shake him so hard that his brain would be knocked out of his ears. He wished to break bones and bite skin until all was left was a broken body. Until Severus's outside looked like Pitch's insides. However, deep under the anger and pain, deep inside his heart, Pitch also wished to ask him why. He needed to know the answer as to why he had been abandoned for nearly a century without a single word said to him.

"Hey, Pitch!" that idiot boy shouted from somewhere behind him. Pitch whirled around from his position on top of the globe and disappeared into a shadow, waiting within the shadows at the base of the globe to look at the Guardians. He was in no mood to fight and if these imbeciles chose now to pick a bone with him, he would be sure to unleash a terror like one that has never been seen.

"Pitch, we don't want to fight!" Toothiana called out, her eyes flitting around almost as fast as her jerky movements that honestly brought on headaches to anyone trying to track her. The other boy, the one that Pitch had never seen before today watched her with amused eyes. He was probably a new guardian; they were always adding those annoying little bastards so why wouldn't another one appear?

"Yeah, come out mate. We want to help," Bunnymund added in a voice that sounded reluctant but firm. Pitch raised a brow in question although they couldn't see him. Why would these idiots want to help him and how did they think they would help? He sneered at the thought that they'd want him to sit down for a little bonding moment between the seven of them. Not on his life.

"Moon + Light!" Sandy shouted silently in warning, his brown eyes scouring over the darkness. Pitch immediately understood him although he very well hated the round midget as he appeared in front of them, stepping out of the shadow that North cast thus landing in the midst of them. They all jumped away from him in shock, glares and scolding looks burned through his face.

"I do not need your help. I simply needed time to… think," Pitch lied expertly and smoothly.

"Yeah, mate, if that's true then why did you leave your lair? No thinking space in a palace?" Bunnymund sneered, folding his arms. He knew a lie when he was told one and there was one being told smack square in his face. The other spirit could at least have the decency to make a more believable lie like he had come there to antagonize them because he was bored.

"Oh go suck on an egg Aster," Pitch threw back not quite as nastily as he could have liked. Bunnymund muttered something under his breath that sounded like curses in his people's native language before forcing himself to calm down in the next second. He wouldn't be tricked into a fight.

"So, what did Severus do to you?" Harry piped up before anyone else could think of a way to get the boogeyman to confide in him. It was brazen and definitely not the way he should have gone about it if Pitch's lip curl and sudden killing aura was anything to go by. If looks could kill… well, Harry would be meeting Severus in a more unsavory way that was for sure.

"And who… are you?" he looked down his nose at the short spirit much like Severus would do. Harry puffed up, hating his height not for the first time. Excluding Sandy, he was the shortest among them and it really wasn't fair in his opinion.

"Name's Harry and I give people Second Chances at Life," the green eyed boy smiled with his chest puffed out a bit. In his normal life he wasn't much for the center of attention and he still wasn't but the gifts he gave people gave him a purpose and that made him extremely happy. Pitch rolled his eyes at such a silly ability then paused.

"I have never heard of you… when were you created?" Pitch inquired in a tone that was a bit friendlier. Harry paused and looked suspiciously at the man. It was possible that the robed man was going to make fun of how young he was but that was such a weak insult so it was unlikely.

"I came to almost eighty years ago, why?" Harry tilted his head. He was not sure what had happened from one second to the next. All that he was aware of was that the white haired Guardian, Jack Frost, was suddenly in front of him and repelling something dark and suppressing with his staff emitting a bright white light. Beyond the light, Harry could see Pitch and it was as if the man was completely different. He looked worse than angry, he allowed as though he not only wanted to kill Harry but he would enjoy every second of doing the deed.

"Pitch, stop!" he heard North shout and, like that, it was over. Jack was panting slightly and, like Pitch, this was a completely different person from five seconds ago. The Winter spirit looked absolutely deadly as though he were ready to lay his life on the line but would much rather beat Pitch over the head repeatedly before succumbing to death.

"I am… sorry but not in that I attacked the boy but because I allowed my emotions to take precedence," Pitch said stiffly, back straight and face blank. It might have something to do with the fact that he was being held in the strong arms of North while Bunny held a boomerang to his throat, Sandy wrapped his whips around the gray wrists and Tooth flitted high above, determination on her beautiful face. Yes, yes, that might actually be the reason.

"Heh, you know, it's no problem. I wasn't hurt and you weren't uh… I guess… I wasn't hurt," Harry trailed off weakly, trying to brush the whole incident off despite the fact that his heart was attempting to shoot right out of his chest. Seriously, that guy had some anger issues! He watched as Pitch seeped into a shadow, leaving the Guardians with nothing to hold and appeared under Tooth's shadow, his face and body language completely neutral once more as though he hadn't lost his mind for a brief moment and attempted to kill another spirit. Harry felt Jack stiffen in front of him and he didn't shift out of his defensive pose as though he didn't believe the calm expression in any way.

"We should start all over with gingerbread and hot chocolate, yes?" North boomed out, trying to set back the friendly fires that had burned in his friends when starting this expedition to help Pitch be happy (or as happy as a boogeyman can be without terrorizing people). Sandy had to decline, an image of beds appearing over his head excusing him from the little heartwarming get together.

"I'll be in in a second. I have to check on something," Harry called out and wandered around until he found the bathroom. It was an amazing room with shining lights, a huge mirror and granite sinks. Very nice but it was the mirror Harry wanted. He strode over to it and leaned forward, blowing hot breath onto the glass until it fogged up.

"42-42-564 whenever you want to knock on Death's door," he muttered the stupid rhyme under his breath. The mirror darkened for a brief moment as the 'phone' rang. Harry tapped his fingers on the sink as he waited then he found himself staring at a handsome man with rolling black flames sprouting from his scalp like wavy hair, falling onto his bare shoulders. He was rather muscular with sun kissed, olive skin and eyes that shone even brighter than the flames that he usually played with.

"Hello, Hades," Harry smiled, waving at the man.

"Harry, I told you that you could call me Sirius—I'm trying to be with the times, you know!" Sirius barked out a laugh. Harry shook his head at the fun man, not mentioning that Sirius wasn't exactly 'modern' and looked behind the much older spirit. It seemed as though he was in Death's meeting room with a few minions and some guy that Harry didn't recognize. The one that was missing, which was odd because he was the big boss of everything that happened in the 'Underworld', was Severus.

"Have you seen Severus?" Harry inquired curiously. He was actually worried for the old spirit despite how much the man tried his short nerves with his utter lack of emotions and care for other people. The man was a right bastard but still, he was his mentor for the most part and had showed Harry how to best do his job. He had blossomed under Severus's guide and now he could almost easily make his own helpers that made his work that much easier.

"I'm hurt that he's the reason you called," Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. Yeah, Sirius and Severus did not exactly get along. For some reason, despite being possibly the oldest spirit out there (it should have helped that they've been living together for most of Sirius' spiritual existence and it was believed that Severus had created Sirius), there was something about Sirius that brought out a more primal hatred from Severus and the same vice versa. It was as though Severus just couldn't stop himself from knocking some sense into his 'underling' in a more physical way while Sirius couldn't stand being under the 'slimy bastard'.

"Well, we had a fight and I just wanted to make sure he's alright," Harry admitted with a slight blush. They hadn't gotten into a fight since Harry's first day out in the world and that case had ended with Severus nearly blowing a vessel and a man dying without Severus' comfort.

"What did you guys fight about… he didn't hurt you did he!?" Sirius demanded immediately, remembering the frightened look Harry had come back with and the light red mark on his cheek from where Severus had slapped him. Sirius still didn't believe that Harry had attacked Severus first but the man was overprotective of him and thought of him as a godson of sorts so it wasn't just blind prejudice against Death.

"No, he didn't hurt me. I was angry because… well, I didn't make it in time. It was a little girl, Lila Pelekai. I saw her on the list and she was so young… so small. I thought I could make it," Harry whispered lightly. Sirius grew silent, obviously wanting to console him but at the same time knowing that the 'great greasy bat' had been correct in whatever he had said which had probably been along the lines of: Death waits for no one, not even second chances.

"Hey kiddo… I'm sorry," Sirius finally sighed. It wouldn't do any good to tell the younger spirit that he would one day get used to the deaths because it wasn't in Harry's nature or gifts to just get used to the deaths. He was meant to thwart and fight Death at every possible turn even if he lived with said spirit.

"It's okay. I just want to know where Severus is so I can see if he's okay. You know that he wouldn't tell us if he lost an arm," Harry tried to bring a bit of happiness into the conversation. Sirius huffed and folded his arms, face twisting in stubbornness but Harry could see that deep within the stormy eyes was a definite look of concern. Despite how often they fought and the nasty words they would spit to one another, Harry was fairly certain that they cared deeply about one another like brothers.

"I'll send a couple cronies to go looking for him. People die every second so he's bound to be out there getting in on the action. You know he's been out of the game for almost eighty years. I'll let you know if I find him and give him your concerns but I gotta go kiddo, see you later," Sirius assured him with a final wave before the image disappeared and Harry was staring at himself once more. The green eyed spirit bit his lip but there was nothing much he could do.

He should go back and join the others.

(**)

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Warning: established relationship (completely forgot to put that earlier)

[]

The room was horribly awkward when Harry finally entered it. He paused in the doorway to examine the situation and try to figure out a nice way to bounce into it. Pitch was sitting loosely in a high back chair, a facial expression that said he was bored and body language that said 'stay away'. His long fingers barely held his cup of steaming chocolate while his eyes bore into the wall over North's shoulder. Speaking of North, the giant Russian was sitting on the edge of his chair, practically bouncing with a smile of absolute bliss on his face as though he couldn't feel the static in the air. Bunnymund was slouched next to the largest Guardian, his aura admitting defeat already. Tooth wasn't actually sitting. She had gone to a corner and was whispering to a few of her little copies that seemed to be giving her some news. And Jack… well, he looked as though he were trying to come up with something to say but each time he opened his mouth a glowing golden eyes would latch onto him, he would fall silent once more.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh hysterically just to see if it would help matters or ignore the atmosphere as best as he could and try to shine some kind of light onto this horrible setting. After a short debate, the lesser of two evils won and Harry forced a smile onto his face and walked further into the room.

"North is that your special homemade chocolate? I swear that I never, ever had better hot chocolate than yours!" Harry babbled as he grabbed the extra mug from the table. He took a sip and let out a sigh of utter contentment as the rich, delicious sweetness bathed his taste buds and sent him to heaven and back. "I've tried to recreate this and haven't gotten close. I think Sev is the—."

Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off in a squeak due to the King of Nightmares suddenly pushing himself to his feet. The Guardians tensed, their muscles ready for a single sign that the spirit was going to hurt Harry again but instead, the robed man began to pace quickly back and forth. His lips moved in a way that stated he was probably muttering more nasty words under his breath but none that they could make out.

"I've never seen him this steamed," Jack muttered to Harry, his icy breath chilling his cheeks. Harry looked back to the spirit. His face seemed rather calm and his hands were behind his back but just the way he stared at whatever passed his face and the sneer within his eyes, this man was past 'steam'. He was in lava stage and it was only a matter of time before he burned someone to ashes.

"Oi, I'm tired of this! I could be doing fifty other things right now and none of them involve the four of you. We're getting this settled right now so YOU!" Bunnymund pointed to the angered spirit of nightmares who had stopped pacing at the start of his sudden outburst. Pitch stared at him with glowing eyes, the twist of his mouth stating that he was obviously unimpressed, "Sit down and tell us why Death has your knickers in a twist."

"He does not have my 'knickers in a twist' as you so rudely put it," Pitch drawled as he practically glided to the chair. This guy was a jack of many emotions although they all ranged from anger to cool indifference. Harry liked the latter the best and hoped that it would last. He took another sip of his chocolate delight and idly attempted to think of a reason as to why he would be the center of Pitch's hatred. It was definitely silly seeing as they had never met before this day but he had obviously done something. Now all he had to do was solve what he had done, other than mentioning Severus by name, and try to help the fear spirit.

"What did he do to anger you, Pitch?" North phrased the large bunny's question differently and in a way that would not offend the older spirit. Pitch stayed silent, staring over the Guardian's shoulder with sad glowing eyes.

"What would you do, North, if one day… out of the blue, you wake up to find Bunnymund had upped and disappeared?" Pitch inquired thoughtfully as though he weren't really aware that he was speaking. The Russian paused and his face drew up in confusion, obviously not quite understanding what this had to do with anything. He glanced at the tattooed pooka who looked just as confused.

"I would look for him. Check everywhere he would go and then everywhere he wouldn't go," North answered truthfully. Pitch smiled a sickly little smile that said he had expected the answer and was even happy to have heard it.

"Yes… and if you could not find him? You would continue to search, yes? Enemies would be discovered, homes would be overturned and friends questioned. It is quite reasonable but what if your search proved futile for decades?" he continued. North swallowed hard but did not take his eyes away from Pitch. The spirit was hurting and he was hurting horribly. It was almost as though his entire soul had been ripped from his body, one strand at a time until all that remained was a festering wound of hatred and despair.

"I…" North didn't want to continue the statement. He was absolutely lost without Bunnymund and their banter. He loved his tall bunny and would do anything for him. If he awakened and saw that he was gone, not in his warren, not in anyone else's realm but just… gone. North was sure that he would go insane if that ever happened. He would try to function but slowly and surely, he would sink deeper and deeper into depression until it consumed his mind and twisted his soul. He would… he would become like Pitch.

"What if, one day, you found that E. Aster Bunnymund rolled from your bed and left of his own will? He left without saying anything to you, without giving a single word or leaving a note. He disappeared entirely and there was nothing you could do to find him much less attempt to convince him to come back. And then…" Pitch stood smoothly to his feet, coming to tower over North, arms folded over his chest and his expression cold, harsh.

Nicolas St. North wanted nothing more than for Pitch Black to stop speaking his words of abandonment. Fear was beginning to grip his heart, twist it like a physical hand as though his mate had truly left him. North knew that it was silly, Bunny would never do that but he reached to take the other's paw… only to find that it wasn't there. North's mouth went dry immediately and his chest began to heave painfully fast. He wanted to turn his head to assure himself that his pooka was indeed there, that he had not been left in this battle with Pitch completely alone but he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the glowing orbs before him.

"Then you discover that the reason he was gone, the reason why he left you alone in the darkness of your own mind was for another man. You find out that the decades you spent searching for Bunnymund—the decades you waited for Aster to return with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company was because you were nothing more than a passing fancy. You could not keep his interest and what is worse is that you could and still cannot do anything to stop him. Then, after these long decades have passed, he returns, waiting for you in your home as he had done most days before his departure. He returns to your side with whispers spoken in oily tones but without an apology. He comes to you and expects you to open your arms without question while his other lover boards in his home as though you are the mistress. He treats you are though you are the dirty secret that has no true place in his life and you realize that yes, he is correct. You don't have a real place in his life. You are disposable."

If North's heart could pound any harder, it would have given him a new tattoo as the grey skinned spirit bore down on him with his silky words and dark images that promoted nothing but madness. The cold that had started around them seemed unbearable, the loneliness that echoed in his mind was suffocating, the silence deafening. He couldn't breathe, he could speak and he just couldn't look away.

Suddenly Pitch pulled back until he was a reasonable distance away and, just like that, the spell was broken. Warmth rushed into his body like a burning inferno and the soft paw of Aster encased his hand. He tightened his fingers over the digits, uncaring that he could hurt his other half because he just couldn't shake the words Pitch had planted within his mind and the utter loneliness he felt. It tore at his very soul and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to find that part of him that was now gone.

"NORTH!" The large Russian blinked and stared into the bright blue eyes of his almost-son and fellow winter spirit. The poor boy looked very worried for him, his eyes roving his face while Tooth flitted over the white haired spirit's shoulder. She snapped her fingers rapidly in his ears and in front of his face with an anxious expression on her pretty face.

"I'm sorry," he rumbled, bringing up his free hand to rub at his eyes. There weren't any tears but they burned with what he truly wanted to do, "What were you saying Jack?"

"What did you do to him, Pitch!?" Aster jumped from his seat, pulling his hand from North's grasp. Or at least he tried but found that the other had a stranglehold on him and wouldn't let him go, not even for righteous, protective anger. North looked over Jack's shoulder and saw Pitch leaning against the fireplace, a smirk on his lips but it wasn't one of his many cruel smirks that told everyone that he didn't think they were worth his time much less effort. No, this smirk was a rather sad, wistful one. It was for North and only North because now, someone understood exactly what Pitch felt and he now shared his pain.

"I simply told him what 'has my knickers in a twist' Aster, no need to become so… violent. Now, I simply must go. Thank you for the lovely chat, North," Pitch bowed mockingly and disappeared in a flurry of black sand up the chimney and far away within seconds. The room descended into silence once more, the Guardians and Harry staring at the spot where Pitch had resided seconds before.

"… I'm confused again," Harry admitted first.

[]

Sirius tapped his fingers against the mirror that he still stood before although he no longer could see the green eyed spirit that he had practically adopted. He loved that boy as though he were his own son or, better yet, a godson that he never got the chance to have but, having said that, he was under no illusion of just how blind Harry could be. He had yet (and probably never would) numbed himself to the deaths that happened every second of every day and he hadn't come to the realization that he lived with the man that often organized deaths or simply allowed them to happen while collecting their souls. This, of course, never went over well with Death for that man wasn't patient with people by any means.

Speaking of Death, Severus was a whole different can of worms entirely. The man was nasty, bitter, and did not give slack to anyone no matter if they deserved it. He had the emotional understanding and the manners of a dragon with a splinter and was about as scary as one as well. Not that Sirius was frightened of the old spirit, it was practically impossible for him to be scared of that disgruntled man. However, he was shocked that he wasn't in the Underworld right at this second, ranting and raving about Harry's supposed stupidity and complete lack of respect.

As Severus's 'underling' he knew things about that man that no one else could possibly hope to grasp and as his brother, he worried about him. He could feel that something was wrong with the greasy bastard and it would have to be fixed if only because Sirius didn't like feeling things for him other than hatred. Of course he would have to find a free Reaper and have them watch over things while he searched for Death… who would have thought, Hades going to help Death of his own free will?

"What is your decision, Hades?" a slippery voice hissed gently. Sirius started at the sound of another being in the room with him and realized that he was still in a meeting. Well then, this put a halt in his search and rescue mission. Okay, first get rid of the odd guy in his conference room then go look for Severus… as soon as he figured out what they were talking about before Harry's call pulled him away.

"Before I address your question, I have to remind you that my name isn't Hades any more—do people even remember that name beyond that horrid cartoon? My name is Sirius now," Sirius corrected the man for the fifth time then his face became thoughtful as he finally recalled what they were talking about. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun! He smiled pleasantly at the man before him and got himself comfortable in the chair across from the stranger. "Now as to your little question and, consequently, your proposal… I'd tell you to go to Hell but one, you're already here and two, I wouldn't want you near me for much longer."

The man sputtered with his mouth agape and his eyes as wide as dinner plates. Whoever said that Sirius lost his touch in infuriating people could officially eat his words. He hadn't seen that look on Severus for over three centuries and the man was painfully easy to rile up with the right words or two. But he was back baby!

"No offense, uh… Charles…?" Sirius quirked an eyebrow in that absolutely maddening way that Severus did and applied a tone that he often used when he knew exactly what someone name was but he was too lazy and disrespectful to bother to bring it forth.

"It's Voldemort," the man chewed out in the kind of way that said he would very much like to kill Sirius in the most painful way possible. It was hysterical just to think about because really, it would take a miracle (and some serious power) for the handsome (albeit red-eyed) man to kill him and then keep him dead without Severus coming back and ripping the guy's soul a new hole. Okay, that part wasn't funny because that actually hurt! Like it hurt a shitload. Then again if this man killed him then he deserved to have Severus tear into his soul. Sirius pulled himself away from those thoughts and bounced in his seat, leaning back in it in more show of nonchalance. He folded his hands behind his head, feeling the burning flames caress his laced fingers.

"Okay, Voldemort, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not rejecting you because I don't like you… actually wait, no, I don't like you but that has nothing to do with it. See, what you're saying is so very stupid that I couldn't even consider your offer and that's what I don't like about you. This doesn't seem like some harebrained scheme that you cooked up this morning with only seconds to spare. No, you actually seemed to have put thought behind it and as soon as you said 'let's snuff Death' I completely tuned you out. Sorry but it's true."

Sirius admitted with a shrug and the air of someone that wasn't sorry in the least. Although Sirius didn't act or look very intelligent, he was extremely smart. After all Severus didn't keep him around for his sweet loving and good looks (that honor went to some dude that was probably just as much of an asshole as Severus). Voldemort didn't seem to believe his answer for he was still sitting only now he was leaning forward, so much so that a few guards stepped a bit closer just in case the red eyed man thought he could attack him.

"Are you not tired of being Death's whipping boy? Do you not fear that one day he will get tired of you and toss you to the side, kill you where you stand because he does not see you fit to serve him any longer? Because that is what will happen—he will become bored of you one of these days and he will throw you to the side before you can even protest like a piece of trash," Voldemort warned him, eyes boring in his face. Had Sirius been any other person under Severus's command or just not himself, he might have believed this odd individual. He might have turned to his side so fast that it would make Death's head spin but he wasn't another person under Severus's command and he was himself. So the answer was still no.

"Yeahhhh… you see, the problem with that little ominous warning is that I'm not his 'whipping boy' any more than you're likely to convert me. Even if I wasn't completely loyal to Severus—Death as you seem to love calling him—there isn't anyone stupid enough to believe that he is at all beatable. You can't conquer Death, you won't get that glory. You will never succeed and will definitely die attempting to do so. Now that I think about it, do I know you?" Sirius tilted his head and abruptly straightened in his seat. His eyes scoured the handsomely sculpted face from the strong nose, full lips that curved down in a frown and glowing red eyes. The man had short brown hair in a stylish cut and he looked to be rather fit with broad shoulders and lean muscles. The more he looked at him, the more familiar he seemed but Sirius just couldn't quite grasp the image to the fullest extent. It was annoying him now that the thought latched onto him and he knew that he would have to speak with Severus about this when he went to go find the man but, right at this moment, he had someone to evict from the premises.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, my good man, but I'm already bored of your company and your face has become annoying. So yeah… get out," Sirius deadpanned, face losing any kind of warmth or mirth. Stormy blue-grey eyes glared at the man within his home as his mouth dropped once more but it retracted much quicker and red eyes narrowed at him. He stood up in a flurry of motion and began to leave the meeting room only to pause at the door.

"You will regret your decision and once your Master is dead, you too shall join him, Death's Whore," He forebode, his voice a deadly whisper that curled around Sirius and actually sent a shiver down his spine although he didn't let it affect him on the outside. Then Voldemort left completely, leaving Sirius to his guards and thoughts. The room was silent, the flame haired man going through his thoughts and his latest conversation when he paused in contemplation of those last words.

"Wait, did the red eyed fucker call me Death's whore!?"

[]

TBC

Do y'all have any suggestions for couples? I'm stuck with the ones I have now.


End file.
